Mummy Dearest
by alyells
Summary: Mrs Weasley's mood is rather rocky. But that doesn't change the way her six sons and one daughter behave. Post PS


**Mummy Dearest**

**Time Period:** The summer after Philosopher's Stone. I'm not sure of all the correct ages, but for the sake of my little story, just go with it. Bill's graduated and is 19, Charlie's 18, Percy's in his sixth year at 16, the twins are in their fourth year at 14, Ron's in his second at 12, and Ginny's about to start at 11.

**Summary:** Mrs Weasley's mood is rather rocky, but that doesn't change the way her six sons and one daughter behave.

'How's our little Ronniekins,' Fred said impishly, entering the Weasley's expanded kitchen with his fourteen-year-old twin, George, early Saturday morning. It was the first week of the summer holidays; aside from his brother's constant tormenting, Ron was glad to have his family home for the summer.

'Piss off,' grumbled Ron, scooping up a large spoonful of porridge and shoving it into his mouth.

'Ronald Weasley,' came his mother's shrill voice from the hall way. She entered with a basket of freshly laundered towels, which looked dangerously near toppling over, slung on her hip. A piece of yarn held back her frazzled red Weasley hair. 'Watch your language, young man, or I'll hex your tongue to the roof of your mouth!'

'Dorry, mum,' he muttered through his mouthful of porridge, glowering at the twins, who were lounging across from Ron at the table, and had identical smirks on their faces.

'And you two,' Mrs Weasley barked at the twins, who sat up straight. Fred nearly toppled out of his chair. 'You're supposed to be de-gnoming the garden this morning, not lazing around and tormenting your brother! Come on, up, up, up!' She swatted them both on the back of the head, and they scurried out to the garden.

Ginny, Ron's eleven-year-old sister, ambled into the kitchen, her long, red hair uncombed, yawning. She sat down at George's abandoned chair and looked up at her mother. 'What's for breakfast, Mum?'

Mrs Weasley's eyes flashed angrily. 'I am_ not_ a house-elf, Ginevra! If you're hungry, _you _find something to eat for a change!' She stormed from the room, muttering under her breath. Ron and Ginny exchanged a look.

'What's up with Mum?' Ginny asked, eyes wide.

'Search me,' Ron replied, shrugging and eating another overflowing spoonful of porridge.

Ginny stared out the window, an odd look on her face. Ron watched her while chewing. He finished off the last spoonful and carried his bowl to the sink and filling it with water. He figured it best _not _to irritate his mother by leaving the dishes on the table.

Just as he was leaving the kitchen, Bill, Charlie and Percy, his other brothers, entered. 'Morning, Ron,' called Bill cheerily. His long hair swung down around his shoulders, and he smiled as he sat. Charlie beamed at Ron, as well, and Percy sat down, looking rather snobbish about something or other.

'Round of Quidditch later, mate?' asked Charlie.

'Yeah,' said Ron. 'Let me know when!'

''Course,' said Bill. 'You in, Perc?'

'Quidditch? Tosh,' said Percy pompously. 'I was planning on spending the day reviewing. Next year _is_ my pre-NEWT year, after all, and I want to get ahead. I don't plan on…'

'I'll take that as a no, then,' Bill cut him off impatiently. Ginny and Charlie laughed, and Percy glared at them. Ron grinned and left the kitchen, heading for the sitting room. His mother was sitting on the sofa, magiking socks into pairs. Her wand flicked swiftly, and the odd socks would jump about, looking for their mate and not able to find it.

'Oh, honestly,' she grumbled. 'Where do they go?'

'Need any help, Mum?' Ron asked, going to sit in the arm chair by the un-lit fireplace.

'The only help _I _need is for you lot to wear proper, matching socks!' she exclaimed, waving her wand furiously and sending a stream of golden sparks out of the end. One landed on an odd sock, and it burst into flames. She growled irritably and muttered, '_Aguamenti'_. A jet of water erupted from her wand and put out the fire, leaving a small, sock-shaped scorch mark on the table. She glared at it, as if wishing for it to cower away from her stare.

Ron watched her, a nervous little knot in the pit of his stomach. When his mother started glaring at burn marks, it was time to clear off. He stood and fled from the room as quickly as he could without running.

When Ron got to his bedroom, he found Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl, perched on top of his chest of drawers with a letter fastened to her leg. He hurried over and untied it, muttering 'thanks' to Hedwig and unrolling the scroll.

_Dear Ron,_

_My summer's been awful so far. The Muggles are dreadful, as usual, and are treating me worse than ever. The only reason they're letting Hedwig out is so she doesn't make a racket and frighten off the neighbours. Dudley says if he ever catches her outside, he'll make a pillow out of her. I told him I'd hex his lips together. That shut him up._

_How're things with you? Hope everyone's okay. Say hi for me._

_Harry_

Ron chuckled slightly when he read the bit about Dudley, but felt bad for Harry, cooped up like that. He stroked Hedwig's back with two fingers and chewed on his bottom lip, wondering how he could help out his best friend.

His bedroom door opened, and without reason, he shoved the letter into the pocket of his jeans. He didn't know why he wanted to hide the letter; it was nothing embarrassing. But for some reason, he didn't want anyone to see it. Fred and George came in, and noticing his feeble attempt to hide the parchment, eyed his suspiciously.

'What's that you've there, little brother?' asked Fred innocently.

'Yeah, what don't you want your loving –' said George.

'Kind –'

'Wonderful –'

'- Protective brothers to see?' finished Fred.

'Nothin',' said Ron, backing away towards his bed. Fred and George advanced on him, grinning identical evil grins.

'Nothin'?' they mimicked together. Ron backed so far away he tripped in the rug on his floor and landed on his back on the Chudley Cannons bedspread. Fred grabbed one arm, George the other, and they pinned him. Ron squirmed and protested loudly, but George managed to reach into his pocket and snatch the letter. They let him up, and he crossed his arms sulkily. Fred read the letter quickly, and then passed it to George, who did the same.

'Why in Merlin's name would you want to hide _that?_' asked George incredulously. Ron shrugged.

'Well, it sounds to me like this is a job for the Weasley brothers,' said Fred with a nod at George.

'We know exactly what to do for our fine friend, Harry,' George said, cottoning on.

'You do?' asked Ron, amazed that they could concoct a plan _that _quick. He knew they were good, just not that good.

'Yep,' they said in unison.

'Dad's car,' said Fred.

'It flies,' said George.

'You wouldn't,' exclaimed Ron, looking between his twin brothers.

'But dear brother, we would,' George said, and they left the room. Fred poked his head around the side of the door, and said,

'Midnight tonight. Send Harry an owl and tell him to pack his things.'

Ron shuddered with excitement, and fear. He wanted to see Harry more than anything, but he was scared to think of what his mother might do if she caught them; well, _when_ she caught them, because she was tricky.

Quickly, Ron scrawled a note to Harry, tied it to Hedwig's leg, and let her out the window of his bedroom. Then, he straightened his bed clothes and went downstairs, the nervous, anxious feeling in his stomach threatening to bubble over.

*

That particular feeling didn't leave Ron for the rest of the day. His appetite at dinner was severely reduced; even his mother noticed, and took great offense to the fact that he wasn't eating her Sheppard's pie. He forced down two helpings after that, and her attitude changed towards him immediately.

Only Quidditch could take his mind of the worry. He, Charlie and George played against Ginny, Bill and Fred in the pitch near their house. They didn't have goal hoops or proper balls, but Charlie bewitched an old football and made it soar about. They chased it around and tossed it to each other, trying to get it past goals marked on the ground with sticks. After about two hours of playing, they retreated into the house, bickering amongst themselves about who won and who cheated.

They all ambled into the sitting room, where Mr and Mrs Weasley were sitting drinking tea. The twins started a game of Exploding Snap with Ginny, and Ron, Bill and Charlie watched. The sick feeling Ron had lost while playing with his brothers and sister was starting to creep up on him again. When he could barely take it any more, Fred and George stood up. Ron joined them, and they all traipsed up the stairs to their rooms.

'Midnight, in the kitchen' Fred reminded him, and closed their bedroom door behind him. Ron nodded and swallowed hard, feeling as though he might be sick.

At around ten thirty, he heard Ginny and his other brothers bid each other a good night and go to their rooms, followed by his mother and father. His stomach gurgled nervously when he heard his mum's foot steps outside his door. They paused; she was listening in, and he remained quiet. Seemingly satisfied, her footsteps carried down the hall and into her room. A door shut behind her.

A chronic worrier though he was, Ron found it much harder to remain calm tonight than most nights before getting into something that he knew he'd get in trouble for. He fidgeted, paced about his room, picked at a scab on his elbow and rearranged his sock drawer twice before finally sitting down on his bed to wait. The night seemed to stretch on for much longer than was normal. He glanced out the window; the stars seemed to spell out a warning to him. He swallowed again; a lump was rising in his throat.

He checked his watch; it was five minutes to twelve. He stepped to the door and placed his ear against it. It was silent in the hall. He opened the door slowly and tiptoed out the hall, down the stairs and into the kitchen. Fred and George were already there, wearing heavy sweaters and Fred had the car keys in his hand. He clutched them tightly so they wouldn't make any noise.

'Ready to go, Ronnie?' asked Fred, grinning. Ron nodded, feeling rather ill.

'Why so scared,' George teased lightly. 'We're good drivers, I think!'

'I mean, sure, it's our first time behind the wheel, and neither of us have a license, but we'll be fine!'

'It's not that I'm worried about,' Ron said thickly. 'It's Mum!'

Fred and George exchanged a look. 'Well, we're a bit worried about that, too, honestly. But what's the worst she'll do, beat us?' said Fred.

'Yeah, we've had worse,' said George. 'Remember that time she locked us in our room for a week, only feeding us three times a day?'

'What'd we do to get that?' Fred asked his twin.

'Dunno, could've been the time we turned Ginny's hair blue.'

'Nah, I remember that one; she bawled at us for about an hour, then sent us to bed without supper. Big deal.' Fred said, rolling his eyes.

'Well, maybe it was the time we stole Percy's schoolbooks, and he looked for them for about an hour before Mum made us empty our bedroom. But I'm not sure, really.'

'They all just run into one another now, don't they, George? Too many punishments to remember, I'd say!'

'Yeah, we figure she'll give up on us sooner or later,' George said with a laugh. 'You've got a long way to go yet. She might just let you off with a good spanking.'

Ron blanched. 'You're not serious!'

'When are we not,' said George, though he still grinned.

'Keep your voice down, and come on,' Fred hissed. With a look over his shoulder, Ron followed his older brothers out into the dark garden. The car was parked in the garage/chicken coup, and when they pulled aside the heavy door, the headlights came on, as if it had been expecting them. The horn honked, and they all jumped.

'Shh,' George hushed the car. Fred went around to the driver's side, unlocked the door, slipped into the seat, and unlocked the rest. Ron got in the back, and George in the passengers seat. 'Any idea what you're doing?' he asked Fred.

'Nope, but here goes.' He turned the key in the ignition, put it in drive, and floored the gas. They all held onto various parts of the car for dear life, and sped through the garden, coming towards the fence.

'Make it fly, make it fly,' screamed Ron frantically. 'You're going to hit the gate!'

'I'm trying,' Fred screamed back, pushing random buttons. When he hit a large silver one, the car sputtered and the front wheels came off the ground. He punched the button again and again, and the back wheels followed the front into the air. Pulling back on a handle, they soared into the inky black sky. Ron muttered incoherently in the back seat, eyes wide and panicked. George took a few deep breaths, gazed out the window, then kicked his feet up on the dash and leaned back.

'Well, this is lovely, isn't it?' he asked nonchalantly.

Ron also looked out the window; the Muggle town they were not flying over was nothing but a series of twinkling lights. He felt his stomach lurch; Ron hated heights.

'Only about an hour and a half and we should be there,' Fred said, and Ron glanced at his watch; it showed one thirty four in the morning. He moaned again.

'We better be home before light,' said Ron darkly, 'or she'll have our heads.'

'She'll have them anyway,' George said from the front. 'She knows things, that mother of ours.'

'In any case, we'll have Harry; she won't make too big of a show with him around,' Fred said happily.

'I think she likes him more than us,' laughed George.

'Maybe you're right, dear brother,' Fred said, also laughing, 'but it works to our advantage.'

'How d'you figure?' Ron asked.

'A human shield,' said Fred. 'She'd never cause _Harry_ bodily harm!'

'She'd find a way to get around him,' Ron whimpered. 'It'd only be temporary relief. Why put it off?'

'Right you are,' George chortled.

'Definitely a glass-half-empty bloke, don't you think, George?' Fred asked his twin, glancing away from the dark sky to look at him.

'Definitely,' George agreed with a nod.

'Shut up,' Ron said quietly.

'Yes, sir,' the twins chanted in unison, George giving Ron a mock-salute.

'One hour, twenty six minutes and counting,' came Fred's voice from the driver's seat. Ron took a deep breath; it was going to be a long night.


End file.
